Alone
by snowcat04
Summary: Follows 5x12. My take on what may have happened to Crockett before he came to Med, and how his past will re-connect with the present. Crockett, Natalie, OC.
1. Chapter 1

Alone

Chapter 1

The bar was crowded, more crowded than usual for a Tuesday evening. College students relaxing after a long day of classes, professionals unwinding after a stressful day of work, couples out celebrating anniversaries, friends celebrating birthdays or just a fun night out. The place was lively, but in the midst of all the gaiety, Crockett felt as alone as he ever had.

Almost.

There was one other time he felt completely alone, a time that was pushed deep down into the recesses of his mind, a time that he just wouldn't allow himself to go to. Performing that risky surgery on the two kids from the bus, worrying that no matter what he did, one or both of them wouldn't survive, had almost brought him there. Now, sitting in the bar, despondently downing two glasses of bourbon, he could feel himself teetering on the brink of that time, and he just couldn't face it. Not now.

Crockett tossed some money down on the bar and walked to his car, zipping his jacket against the cold Chicago wind. He drove the short distance to his apartment and when he was settled inside for the night, he poured himself another glass of bourbon. Sitting at the kitchen table, he set the glass down and pulled out his cell phone, putting it on the table next to the glass. Staring at a space in between the two, Crockett finally picked up the phone and scrolled through the contacts, stopping at a familiar name that made his chest tighten slightly. Sighing, he tapped the name and listened to it ring. On the fifth ring, there was a groggy answer.

"Hello?"

The sound of the voice brought a lump to Crockett's throat, and he swallowed.

"Hello Rachel." There was a beat of silence on the other end.

"Crockett." The coolness in his ex-wife's tone nearly made him hang up, but he took a deep breath and forged ahead.

"So, how've you-"

"Crockett, are you kidding me right now?" The question caught him off guard, and he blinked.

"What?"

"I haven't heard from you in a year, and now you call me at 11:30 at night? You just run away and expect to pick back up like nothing ever happened?"

"I didn't run away," Crockett said softly, closing his eyes as he rubbed his forehead wearily. "We got divorced."

"And I still needed you, needed your support," Rachel countered. "But I guess that never mattered to you." Crockett shook his head, feeling the heat rising in his face.

"You needed my support? After what you said, after you accused me of-" he broke off, trying to control his breathing. "No, I don't want to do this, I don't want to argue. I just-I had a hard day, tough case, and it reminded me...and I got to wondering how you were...I don't know what I was thinking, I mean, after all, it was my fault, right?" Bitterness dripped from his words, more than he intended, and he quickly disconnected the call. Without another thought, he downed the glass of bourbon, then headed to the kitchen to finish off the rest of the bottle.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Crockett opened the safe at his locker to retrieve his keys and wallet, relieved that his shift was finally over. He had tried his best to fight through the headache that raged from the moment he had opened his eyes and glimpsed the empty bottle of bourbon on the floor beside his bed. Even hooking up the IV bag during a break wasn't enough to quell the pounding, and all he wanted to do was get home, close every curtain in his house, shut off every light and sleep for a year. No one at the hospital had treated him any differently today, so he figured he must have done a good job at not showing how wrecked he felt. Once or twice he had caught Natalie looking at him with something that may have bordered on concern, but he pretended he hadn't noticed.

Looking at his phone, Crockett noticed that he had five missed calls, all from Rachel. The thought of ever having to speak to her again made his head throb even more, and he quickly stuffed the phone in the front pocket of his backpack. Shrugging into his jacket, he turned towards the door, nearly colliding with Natalie as he did so.

"Oh, Crockett, I'm sorry," Natalie said as she side-stepped him. Crockett shook his head, barley meeting her eyes. "My fault," he murmured as he put his head down and turned to leave once again. This time, Natalie reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.

"Crockett, wait, please." He turned to face her, a mix of annoyance and wariness on his face.

"What is it, Natalie?" Taking a deep breath, Natalie looked him directly in the eyes.

"I know something is bothering you. First, the way you left yesterday, and today you looked like you wanted to pass out. What's going on with you?" Crockett shook his head.

"Natalie, I'm fine. Just a little tired." He tried to pull away, but Natalie strengthened her grip on his arm.

"No, Crockett, you're not fine. Anyone can see that. Please, tell me what's going on." Again he shook his head, feeling color rising in his cheeks.

"Can't you just let this go?" he asked, his voice rising. Natalie gave him a hard stare, and her voice rose as well.

"No, I can't let this go. You were practically walking around like a zombie today, Crockett, and if we're going to be working together I need to be able to trust you and know that we're going to be able to cover for each other. You haven't been yourself since the end of shift yesterday, and I'm sorry but I'm worried about you!"

Looking into Natalie's eyes, Crockett could see the depth of genuine concern behind her words. He sighed, dropping his backpack to the floor.

"Fine, Natalie, you win," he said, a look of utter defeat passing over his dark features. He sat down on the couch and rubbed his face, trying to find the strength within himself to go to the place he had been so desperately trying to avoid for the past year. Slowly, Natalie sat at the opposite end of the couch facing Crockett, watching him wage some internal struggle and feeling the worry rising in her chest. They sat in silence for almost a minute until at last Crockett spoke.

"I met this girl when I was an undergrad at Tulane. Her name was Rachel, she was a lovely girl. Beautiful, smart, funny, everything I was looking for in a girlfriend. We fell in love, crazy, passionately...we were a lot alike, I suppose. We decided to get married after graduation, before I started med school. Once I started, it got pretty stressful, and it started to take a toll on our relationship. We had a lot of ups and downs, we'd fight a lot, make up a lot...you know." He glanced over at Natalie. "Well, after one of our make-ups, we got a surprise. Her name was Morgan." Taking out his phone, Crockett scrolled through his photos, finally stopping on one, feeling his throat constrict and the familiar, hated ache in his chest as he looked at it for a moment before handing his phone to Natalie. She looked at the smiling little girl, her wavy brown hair framing her face, big brown eyes sparkling, her resemblance to Crockett unmistakeable. Natalie felt herself beginning to choke up.

"She's beautiful," she whispered, handing the phone back to Crockett. He nodded.

"She was the best thing that ever happened to me. To us, actually...well, for a while. For the first two years, my last two in med school, everything was great. Then I graduated and started my residency...and it started to fall apart again. I would get home and all Rachel and I would do was fight. It wasn't good for Morgan, wasn't good for us, so we decided to separate for a while, see if we could clear the air. I moved into an apartment two blocks from the hospital and Rachel stayed in our old apartment with Morgan, but I called to say goodnight to her every night and I also had her on weekends when I wasn't on call. She used to love to ride her tricycle, and we would walk a few blocks to the local park, she would ride and I'd walk right behind her. One Saturday we were headed over there..." Crockett's voice trailed off, and he took a deep breath, unsure if he could continue. He looked over at Natalie, who nodded in silent encouragement. Clearing his throat, Crockett closed his eyes.

_It was a beautiful sunny day, about 75 degrees out. Morgan had been begging Crockett to go to the park for hours, and as he tied her sneakers she looked up at him with a big smile._

_ "Daddy, I'm going to ride so fast today!" Crockett chuckled as he clipped Morgan's favorite unicorn barrette in her hair._

_ "I'm sure you are, sweetheart. You're going to be a bicycle racer one day, you're so good at it. You ready?" Morgan nodded, jumping up and down as Crockett grabbed Morgan's tricycle and the keys to the apartment._

_ "All right then, Sunshine, let's go."_

_ They got down to the sidewalk and Crockett set Morgan's tricycle down. She climbed onto the seat and began to peddle, faster than Crockett had anticipated. He hurried to catch up to her, gently putting one hand on her shoulder and one on the handlebars to slow her down._

_ "Whoa, hold on there, darlin'. You're getting a little too fast for me," Crockett laughed, smoothing Morgan's hair. She giggled._

_ "Come on, Daddy!" _

_ "All right, baby, just go a little slower. Don't forget to stop at the corner." Morgan nodded and began to peddle again, slower this time. She was really a wonderful child, almost always following directions with a focused intensity that reminded Crockett so much of himself. He followed behind her and they both came to a stop at the corner, where a crosswalk stretched in front of them. They traversed that same crosswalk dozens of times, every weekend when they went to the park. Crockett looked both ways, making sure it was clear._

_ "Ok, sweetie, go ahead." Just as he said this, his hospital pager buzzed. I'm not on call this weekend, what's going on, he thought to himself as he glanced down to check the number._

_ The car seemingly appeared out of nowhere, the roar of the engine deafening as it raced around the corner. Crockett's head shot up at the sound, and his attention immediately went to Morgan, who had not quite reached the center of the crosswalk. Terrified, he began to sprint towards her, as the driver seemed to suddenly realize she was there and slammed on the brakes._

_ In that instant, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Just inches from his daughter, Crockett saw the impact, saw the tricycle lodge under the car, sparking as the car traveled another few feet, dragging it. He saw the driver stumble out and saw the three empty beer cans that fell out, rolling into the street. He saw it all, but didn't comprehend any of it. All he could think about was getting to his daughter. _

_ Crockett rushed to Morgan's side, and as he saw her lying there, motionless, he dropped to his knees and let out the most painful scream imaginable, one that came from the very depths of his soul. He smoothed her hair, feeling the blood on his fingers, and something about that managed to awaken a small part of the doctor in him. He checked her pulse, which was too weak, and noted her breathing, which was too shallow. Beginning to panic, he gently lifted Morgan into his arms, with part of his brain reminding him that if she were any other patient, he wouldn't move her and would call for an ambulance. Looking at his daughter, all he could think was that there wasn't time to wait and that he needed to get her to the hospital. Running as fast as he could while at the same time trying not to jostle Morgan, Crockett arrived at the emergency entrance of the hospital._

_ He remembered screaming for help, remembered the nurses rushing out with the gurney, remembered Dr. Attison asking what had happened as he checked Morgan's vitals. He remembered hearing Dr. Attison telling someone to call Rachel. He didn't remember much after that except being guided to the waiting room where he paced back and forth wringing his hands until they hurt. The next thing he remembered was Dr. Attison entering the waiting room, a look of dejection on his face._

_ "Crockett, I'm sorry. Morgan didn't make it. There was just too much swelling in her brain, too much internal damage." He put a hand on Crockett's shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry. I had Ellen call Rachel, she should be-"_

_ A scream of agony stopped Dr. Attison mid-sentence. Rachel was rushing up the hall, tears streaming down her face._

_ "Where is she? I want to see her! I want to see my baby!" Dr. Attison stepped in front of her._

_ "Rachel, I'm so sorry-"_

_ "No! She can't be gone, she just can't! Where is my baby?" Looking beyond Dr. Attison, Rachel saw Crockett standing there, completely stunned. She rushed at him, her hands balled into fists._

_ "You bastard!" Rachel shouted, swinging her fists at Crockett, striking him in the chest and shoulders. "You were supposed to be watching her! Why weren't you watching her?"_

_ "I...I-I was watching her," Crockett managed to stammer. He knew his wife was hitting him, but he felt nothing. He was numb, physically, mentally, emotionally. Nothing was making any sense. He was aware of Dr. Attison and several nurses pulling Rachel off of him, aware that everyone seemed to be talking, but it was all just a noisy blur. He didn't remember anything else that happened that day. _

_ Somehow, he managed to put one foot in front of the other for the next few days, as he and Rachel did the unthinkable: planned their daughter's funeral. He had tried to talk to her, to explain what had happened, but she refused to listen, in fact, she wouldn't speak directly to him at all unless someone else was there and had asked a question. No matter how hard he tried, she just shut him out._

_ The day of the funeral, Crockett and Rachel sat next to each other in the church, but neither spoke. All through the church service and at the cemetery, complete silence. It wasn't until the end of the service, when they stood alone, side by side in front of Morgan's coffin, that Rachel finally spoke._

_ "Why didn't you save her?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Crockett looked over at his wife, into her empty, red-rimmed eyes._

_ "What?"_

_ "You're a doctor, why didn't you save her?" Crockett didn't even know what to say._

_ "Rachel, I couldn't-"_

_ "All the time you spent working, all the nights you got home and were too tired to pay attention to us, everything you sacrificed, and you couldn't even save your own daughter." The words cut right into Crockett's heart._

_ "That's not fair, Rachel," he whispered, feeling the blood draining from his face and his hands beginning to shake. "It happened so fast-"_

_ "No, Crockett, I don't want to hear it. You had the training, you should have saved her." Tears began to stream down Rachel's face. "This is all your fault." Putting a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob, she turned and ran towards the exit._

_ Crockett stood rooted in place, his mind reeling. He began to feel like he couldn't breathe, not knowing if it was the crushing pain of Rachel's words, or the intense realization that Morgan was really gone. He had never felt so alone. Slowly, he turned to the coffin and placed his hand on the lid. He lowered his head until his forehead was resting on the back of his hand._

_ "I'm sorry, Sunshine," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry." A sob forced its way out from somewhere deep inside, and Crockett sank to the ground, crying so hard that he was afraid he would literally break apart._

"Rachel filed for divorce two days later," Crockett whispered. "The divorce was final a year ago, and we've barely spoken since. I had to get away, had to make a new start. I just couldn't stay there...too painful." He blinked, tears spilling from his eyes. Slightly embarrassed, he wiped them away and looked over at Natalie.

Unable to hold back her own tears, Natalie reached over and took hold of Crockett's hand. "I-Crockett, I just-I don't know what to say. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." He nodded, the lump forming in his throat once again, fresh tears stinging his eyes.

"She was only four. She never even got to go to kindergarten." Natalie shook her head, thinking about how she would feel if anything ever happened to Owen.

"Oh my God, Crockett...I can't even imagine." At a complete loss for words, all she could do was squeeze his hand. They were both silent for a moment.

"I called Rachel last night, after everything that happened, I thought I should try to reach out...she didn't even want to talk to me." He shook his head, staring at the floor. "She's never forgiven me. She blames me...and sometimes I still blame myself." Natalie shook her head.

"Crockett, it was an accident. You know that. I can't sit here and pretend that I know how it feels to lose a child, but I do know that accidents happen, we see it every day." She let go of his hand and squeezed his shoulder, keeping her hand there until he looked back up at her and nodded.

"I know. I try to remind myself, but it's hard sometimes." He sighed, then, with a small smile, reached over and squeezed Natalie's hand. "Thanks for being here." Natalie smiled and returned the squeeze.

"Any time."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

For the next two days after his conversation with Natalie, Crockett threw himself into his work. He was a machine, running on pure adrenaline, remembering Morgan and Henry and Kate-the two kids from the bus-and vowing that he would never let another child, another _patient_ suffer. His colleagues were amazed at the pace he was keeping, and he would still catch Natalie glancing at him every so often, though she always made sure to give him the space he needed.

Heading out of the hospital at the end of his shift on Friday, he said goodnight to Will, Dr. Charles and Maggie as the doors to the ER slid open. He hadn't taken more than ten steps toward the parking lot when he heard a familiar voice.

"Crockett."

He stopped short, his breath catching in his throat and suddenly feeling lightheaded. Slowly, Crockett turned toward the voice, and found himself face to face with his ex-wife.

"Rachel. What are you doing here?"

"You wouldn't answer my calls, and I really needed to talk to you." Crockett shook his head.

"I never told you where I was going. How did even know where to find me?" His voice was low, quiet, wounded. Rachel took a deep breath.

"It's called Google, Crockett, it really wasn't that hard. All I had to do was type your name and the hospital's website popped up." She looked him in the eyes, and he quickly averted his gaze. Rachel sighed.

"Crockett, we have to talk. Is there somewhere we can go?"

Crockett paused, unsure if he was ready to rip away the healing that had begun over the past year. He knew Rachel was right, they needed to talk, and after his previous conversation with Natalie he figured that now was as good a time as any. He knew it wasn't going to get any easier, no matter what he told himself. Inhaling slowly, he finally looked up at Rachel.

"Sure. We can go to my apartment."

The drive to Crockett's apartment passed in complete silence. When they arrived, they took the elevator up in silence as well. Croskett unlocked the door and pushed it open, motioning for Rachel to enter ahead of him. She walked in slowly, surveying the living room. It looked so different from the apartment they had shared in Louisiana with Morgan. Rachel took a deep breath.

"This is nice," she said, her voice a little unsure. Crockett didn't respond, just dropped his backpack on the floor under the coat hooks and hung his jacket on the hook nearest the door. Glancing at, then quickly away from Rachel, he motioned to the couch.

"Have a seat. Can I get you anything?"

"Just a glass of water," Rachel replied. She removed her jacket and set it on the couch next to her. Feeling slightly awkward, she scratched at her left thumbnail with her right one until Crockett returned from the kitchen and handed her the glass of water.

"Thank you," she said quietly, taking the glass and a small sip before setting it down on the coffee table.

Crockett nodded. "Sure." He was about to walk over to the chair across the room, but Rachel gestured to the empty cushion at the end of the couch.

"Please."

Hesitantly, Crockett lowered himself on to the couch, still avoiding Rachel's gaze. He stared at the floor, feeling as though he were on pins and needles.

"So...say what you came to say." The despondency and pain in his voice was palpable.

Rachel clasped her hands together. She had been trying to come up with the right words and now, sitting in the apartment of her ex-husband, she couldn't get her voice to work. Drawing a deep breath, she summoned her courage, trying to quell her nerves.

"Crockett...I'm sorry." He raised his gaze but still didn't look at her. Swallowing hard, he managed a whispered response.

"For what?"

"For everything. Everything I said when Morgan-" Rachel's voice caught, and she took a shaky breath. "Crockett, I know you won't believe this, but I honestly didn't mean to hurt you." Crockett let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Yeah, well, in spite of the lack of intent, you sure did a pretty good job." Rachel closed her eyes, feeling her throat constrict. When she opened them again, they were brimming with tears, and when she spoke, her voice shook.

"Crockett, I had no right to say what I said to you. I had no right to accuse you of not watching Morgan, or to have expected you to just magically save her. The truth is, I never blamed you. I was just so angry that I wasn't there for her and you were, that I took it out on you. I know it was an accident and that there was nothing you could have done. I'm so sorry." She inhaled quickly, trying to choke back a sob.

Crockett finally looked at Rachel, his eyes filling with tears. "Why did you wait so long to tell me?" he asked, his voice soft. Rachel shook her head.

"I've been trying to think of a way to tell you for the past year, I just couldn't figure out how. When you left I figured you would never want to speak to me again, and I just pushed everything away. When you called the other night I just...it was late and I wasn't expecting it. After you hung up I realized I had never told you any of this, and I knew I had to before any remaining connection we had between us was destroyed forever."

Crockett exhaled sharply, trying to keep his composure. "Rachel, I wanted to support you when Morgan died. I really did-" Nodding, Rachel cut him off.

"I know you did. After you hung up the other night I sat up thinking about it, thinking about how I pushed you away after...Crockett, I just handled everything so badly...I don't expect you to ever forgive me." The floodgates opened, and Rachel began to sob, burying her face in her hands. Crockett moved to sit beside her and pulled her into an embrace, smoothing her hair the way he used to smooth Morgan's. He lowered his head and whispered into her ear.

"Rachel, I forgive you. I know you were in just as much pain as I was, and there's no right way to grieve. It's ok...it's ok." Rachel reached up and clutched his shoulders, twisting the fabric of his shirt in her fists.

"I miss her so much," she cried, the words almost incomprehensible with her face buried in his chest. Crockett swallowed.

"I know. I miss her too. So, so much." On the last word his voice broke, and he too began to sob, his tears falling onto Rachel's hair. They embraced each other for a long time, together yet somehow each still very much alone.


End file.
